Taken: Warriors of Hir, Book 2 (13 page)

“Still, I vote we try for the medical bay first. Here.” She moved his hand to one of the rear chair’s headrests. “Hold onto this. I’ll get the door open.”

Hope brushed some of the debris away so she could kneel in front of the compartment. Using the tips of her fingers she managed to pry the panel open. The recessed compartment had a number of controls and a handle.

“What do I do?” she asked, peering into the space.

“Hit the first two controls simultaneously then rotate the handle to the right. The door seal will release and the door will slide open easily.”

She hit the two controls but the handle was g’hir sized so she needed to use two hands to clasp it. She pushed hard but the handle seemed wielded into place. “Goddamn, sonofabitch—!”

“I will—”

“I’ve
got
this! Just give me one fucking—!”

With a metallic scraping sound the handle finally budged but it took all of her weight to move it into place. Finally, with a low hiss, the door seal released.

“See?” she said standing, though her hands were hurting from pushing on the handle. “No problem.”

She fit her fingertips into the scant space between the door and doorframe then widened her stance, braced herself, and pulled hard.

The door moved a measly inch.

“Oh, you have got to be freaking kidding me!” Gritting her teeth, Hope pulled again and managed to widen the opening another few centimeters. She paused, breathing hard from the effort, and threw R’har an apologetic look. “Might want to go ahead and sit back down. Looks like I’m going to need a minute here.”

“Stand aside,” he said, straightening. “I will open it.”

“No way. You’re injured. I’m not. I can do it.”

Fitting her fingers into the crack she’d made between the doorway and the door she pulled again.

“Hope—”

“Damn it, R’har, I’m doing this!” she panted, changing her grip. “Just give me a sec here.”

Gritting her teeth, working inch by inch, she coaxed the door open.

“Holy cow,” she gasped, massaging her sore hands as she peered into the hallway. “How many doors between here and the medical bay again?”

“Three.”

“Oh, yippee.” Her shoulder felt like fire and pain was running down her right arm.

Suck it up, MacGowan.

The lights in the corridor were out and the light from the cockpit was scant indeed. Hope wrinkled her nose at the charred smell. “Well, something sure got burnt up.”

“Systems all over the ship burned out when we jumped into the atmosphere. A number of components likely scorched during the overload.”

R’har was so pale she thought he might take a header if he let go of the chair.

“Just let me get the doors between here and the medical bay open,” she urged. “I’ll make sure the way is clear—or clear it if I have to. I’ll come back for you as soon as I can.”

“You are my lifemate,” he growled. “I will not let you go into danger alone.”

Now was not the time to discuss that whole g’hir lifemate thing. Not with him bleeding and the state the ship was in.

And the Zerar up there.

He probably hadn’t forgotten about them any more than she had.

“Any chance there’s a flashlight we can take along?”

“There should be a lumina in the compartment next to the door.”

This one at least opened without a struggle but it took Hope a moment to figure out how to work the light. Also made for a g’hir’s hands, the thing was oversized for hers and awkward to manage.

“Okay,” she said, taking up her position at his side and putting her arm around his waist. “Let’s go.”

They made it down the first corridor without incident. She left R’har leaning heavily against the wall while she worked on getting the next door open. Her fingers were going to be bruised and her hands were already aching.

The sunlight from the cockpit didn’t reach this far and this hall was very dark indeed.

“You okay?” she asked worriedly. Standing and walking when he should have been resting had R’har looking far worse. “Do you want to wait here? We’re not far now. One more here then the door into the medical bay.” She swung the light in that direction. “I’ll be right there. You’ll be able to see me.”

“But not reach you if you had need of me.” His jaw hardened. “I am your protector. It shames me that you must struggle to clear the way when I should be doing it for you. That I cannot carry you so that you must walk through debris in bare feet. But I
will
be at your side and I will protect you to my last breath.”

“There’s nothing on this ship you need to protect me from,” she pointed out. “I’ve got a flashlight—lumina—
whatever
. I won’t be far away and you look like you just lost a bar fight.”

R’har bared his fangs. “I have
never
lost a bar fight.” He raised an eyebrow at her short, surprised laugh. “You do not believe me, little one?”

“Oh, I believe you’d win any fight you decided to show up for,” she said, taking up position beside him to help him along. If he was going to be this stubborn then the next best option was getting him to the medical bay as soon as she could. “I’m actually torn between wondering who’d be stupid enough to pick one with you and trying to imagine you hanging around in a bar in the first place. You didn’t strike me as the type.”

“What ‘type’ do I strike you as?”

He was trying not to lean on her, that was obvious, but he couldn’t manage without her help.

He was a whole lot more hurt than he was letting on.

“I dunno. The wrestle-an-alien-beast-down-with-your-bare-hands type, I guess.”

“I have done that too,” he agreed. “But I have fought other males in the taverns as well. There are many warriors with nothing better to do now than drink and pick fights.”

“Nothing better to do?” Hope’s brow creased. These people had space travel, access to dozens of other alien cultures, incredible technology at their disposal. “What do you mean?”

“G’hir males need . . .
purpose
. Before the plague we had mates to capture, to protect, offspring to safeguard. It was where our energy, our strength, was channeled. This was our sacred calling from the Goddess, the noblest of tasks, the essence of a g’hir warrior’s identity. But the Scourge tore that from us too when it killed our females. Many warriors drift now, caught between the space before this life and after with no reason to exist. Many lack direction and struggle for a purpose to their lives. Some have surrendered to drink and foolish scuffles, to the blackness of despair.”

“But not you.”

“How could I?” Even in this faint light his eyes shone as they met hers. “The Goddess herself gave me hope.”

At the warmth in his rumble, the light in his glowing eyes, she ducked her head. “I have to get the door open.”

He was silent as she worked. Hope got the panel off, hit the controls, but this time the manual release, still provided with scant power, turned without struggle and this door slid open easily.

“Oh, thank you,” she breathed as the lights in the medical bay came up. A quick glance around showed this room had fared pretty well, considering their less than stellar landing. Clearly whatever backup systems were supplying power still worked. She prayed that meant the equipment would be functional as well.

“Come on,” she urged as R’har leaned heavily against her. “Just a couple more steps.”

He fell onto the exam table, closing his eyes as soon as his head touched the cushioned surface.

“Stay awake, R’har,” she pleaded with an anxious glance at the unfamiliar equipment. “You have to talk me through this, remember?”

His eyes opened briefly to meet hers, his gaze a little unfocused. “Commence medical scan.”

She was about to remind him that she had no idea how to do that when the exam table rose then snapped into place with a hiss. A horizontal beam of blue-white light, originating from the ceiling above the table, ran the length of him from the top of his head, down over his chest and to the tips of his boots.

Around the room displays came to life to show readings from his scan. Beneath the readings were scrolling words in the g’hir language.

She chewed the inside of her cheek, her glance darting from screen to screen. “You know all this would be really helpful if I could read Hironian.”

“Commence audible medical assessment,” he murmured.

“Second degree concussion, sub-cranial ridge hematoma . . .” The voice that read out his condition was in the growls and snarls of a g’hir but it was a warm tone, undeniably female, and in Hope’s opinion way too chipper sounding for the grim news it was relaying. “Right collarbone, broken at point seven degrees and nineteen degrees. Right shoulder, detached rotator cuff. Right rib cage, fracture of the fifth and seventh ribs. Upper abdominal region, severe trauma to the sorian. Laceration of the liver, internal bleeding . . .”

The medcomp continued its appraisal of his condition. It generated a rotating three-dimensional hologram of a male g’hir form over the exam table, the various areas of injury lighting up in red as they were read off. Just seeing it made Hope swallow hard.

“God,” she breathed. “How did you even manage to stand up?”

It took her a moment to realize that while the medical computer was droning on, R’har hadn’t answered her.

“R’har?” An alarm buzzed angrily at her when she crossed into the scanner light. Afraid her movement had interfered with the exam she took a quick step back. “R’har?”

He didn’t respond. His eyes were closed, the hand that had been holding his bandage on slack beside him.

The medical computer trailed off in its assessment, leaving Hope alone with the rotating figure above R’har’s unconscious form detailing injuries that she had no idea how to treat.

Thirteen

“R’har?”

She took a tentative step toward him but the medical scanner remained dark and didn’t buzz in protest at her approach. Hope laid her hand on his chest. His heart beat under her palm but without the same strength, the same vigor it had before.

He was frighteningly pale now, his vivid eyes closed.

“Please wake up. Please. You have to tell me what to do here, how to help you.”

He didn’t respond or appear to have even heard her.

I took too long getting him here! I should have moved faster! I should have—

“Stop it,” Hope hissed at herself. “You need to think! Just
think
about what you need to do and
do
it.”

The three-dimensional figure outlining R’har’s many injuries still rotated above the table.

“What do I do?” Hope looked up at the now deactivated medical scanner. “I don’t know how to treat him! You have to tell me!
Please!
”

The equipment stayed silent and dark.

“Goddamn it, tell me what to do! How do I treat him?” She threw an impatient gesture at the rotating representation of R’har. “Why show me this if you won’t tell me what to do? He needs help
right
now
!”

Hope’s gaze fell on R’har again, the rippled brow and strong jaw, the full mouth he’d pressed so eagerly to hers.

You’re a lot of things, R’har. An alien. A warrior. A pilot. You even think you’re my lifemate, whatever
that
is.

Her head came up. “But you never claimed to be a doctor . . .”

Which meant that this equipment was intended for someone with a minimum amount of medical training.

Hope looked back up at the scanner. “Uh, please treat him?”

The equipment didn’t respond and her eyes were drawn to R’har again.

“No, that’s not what you did,” she murmured. “You didn’t ask it. You
told
it.” Hope raised her voice. “Begin medical treatment!”

Nothing.

“Damn it,” she snarled.
But all he did was tell it to start—

“No!” she cried suddenly. “Not—I mean,
Commence
medical treatment!”

Hope jumped back with a gasp as the scanner above sprang to life, its light already moving over R’har’s body. A force field shimmered into place around the table, forcing Hope to retreat further as arms emerged from the table like the legs of a huge metallic spider to hover over him. The medical arms, pinchers, and instruments worked on R’har with cold mechanical efficiency, quickly removing his clothing, even deftly cutting away his boots and discarding the used bandage.

A soft hiss sounded when one of the arms pressed a cylinder to his neck.

New symbols appeared over the rotating figure and Hope gritted her teeth.

As soon as he wakes up he’s going to start teaching me to read this stuff!

“Commence, uh . . .”
Damn it, what did he say?
“Commence audible medical assessment!”

“Blood pressure stabilizing,” the computer responded in its soothing female g’hir growls. “Blood oxygen levels rising. Beginning vascular repair to sub-cranial ridge trauma . . .”

Hope shifted her feet as the medical equipment worked on him, both relieved to tears that he was finally being treated and wishing she could do more—or at least some of it—herself. The computer voice went on, calmly outlining the different treatments as the arms performed them, giving updates to R’har’s vital signs as well.

One by one the red areas highlighted on the rotating hologram went to blue and abruptly the arms retracted back into the table.

The computer’s voice came on as the forcefield winked out. “Additional care recommended: Rest. Fluids and light meals to include the following nutrients—” A list she couldn’t read appeared and the letters glowed for a moment. “Treatment complete.”

The scanner above went dark. The machine had even been thoughtful enough to provide him with a sheet that covered him to the ribs.

She came to the table’s edge and leaned down over him, her face close to his.

“R’har?” she said softly, her fingers stroking his forehead, her fingers tracing the ripples of his forehead. “Can you hear me?”

His eyes opened a little, the glow of his bright green irises just visible under his lids, and he gave her a sleepy smile. “Hope . . .”

His hand came up to cup her cheek in his broad hand and she closed her eyes for a moment, just feeling his skin against hers, the warmth of him.

“You’re all right,” she whispered. “You’re all right.”

“My Hope . . .”

He rose up toward her, his nose brushing hers in a g’hir kiss, then his mouth was hot against hers, and she moaned as his purr started, soft and deep.

His tongue flicked against the inner part of her lip and she breathed in the sweet spice of him, his rumble-purr sending heat curling through her belly as he deepened the kiss. His strong hands went to the curve of her waist and he lifted her easily onto the table to lie beside him.

His lips brushed along her cheek to her throat and he inhaled deeply, a fine tremble running through his body as he breathed in her scent. His hand came up to cup her breast, his thumb tracing her nipple through the thin fabric of the gown, then his fingers were brushing the straps away and there was a rush of air against her bare skin as the silky fabric fell away. 

His fevered gaze fell on her breast, the muscles of his belly bunching as he curled toward her to cover her nipple with the moist heat of his mouth. She bit her lip as his tongue flicked against her and her fingers threaded through his hair as he nuzzled.

But she wasn’t content, not at ease yet, even with her center tightening, her mind clouding with pleasure. Hope swung up to sit astride him, tracing the healed hurts with fingers and mouth, assuring herself he was whole again.

Her caresses only drove his need higher. The growling-purring rumble sent tingling fire racing between her legs and then he was spreading her wider, his long fingers at her cleft, stroking her.

“God!” she gasped, pressing harder against him as his fingers quickened, their light strokes against her clit increasing to inhuman speed.

She was teetering just at the peak when R’har caught her waist, lifting his hips to slide easily into her, filling her to the hilt with his slick hot cock. Hope bent her head against the warm smoothness of his neck, holding onto his shoulders as he rocked inside her, his hips picking up speed as she contracted hard around him.

He moved fast and deep then, drumming with a g’hir’s speed. He tensed, his big body trembled, his fangs flashing, and then he was pulsing hard inside her. 

His breath was still fast, his skin damp with sweat, and she was still shaking from the intensity of her climax when he raised his head to offer her a clumsy nose rub.

R’har gathered her at his side and brushed his lips against her forehead. Hope let her eyes fall shut, her cheek on his chest, feeling how his heart began to slow in his chest as his fingers intertwined with hers. His rumbling fell to a contented purr and he brought her palm to his mouth to kiss.

His purr caught and stopped. “Your hand . . .”

“Hmm . . . what about it?” she mumbled, nestling closer but the sudden tension in his body was jarring.

“There is blood on your hand! Why is there—?” R’har drew back a little to look at her and his brows rushed together. “You are injured!”

She glanced at the black and blue already marring the pale skin of her shoulder. “Yeah that’s gonna be an ugly one. Probably happened when the Zerar first attacked.”

He shook his head a little. “The Zerar—they . . .”

Suddenly he sat up, dislodging Hope from her comfortable place against him as his glance darted around the room. “We are in the medical bay. How did we come to be in the medical bay?”

“How did we—?” Hope sat up too, frowning at him. “Well, you had a concussion and you were sedated,” she said slowly. “Maybe that’s why you don’t remember.”

“I think—” The heel of his hand went to his temple.

“You were cut there,” she agreed, tracing the spot and shaking her head in grateful amazement. He didn’t even have a scar to show for what he’d suffered. “Pretty badly and you had a whole lot of internal injures too. I can’t even believe the technology your people have—the healing it can do.”

“The ship spun out of control then we . . .” His eyes widened and his gaze went to her shoulder again. “My injuries were treated but yours were
not
? Goddess, how could I have—?”

In the next instant he was off the table, still naked, his arms sliding underneath her shoulders and knees to move her to the table’s center. “Commence medical—”

“
Ohmigod!
” Hope scrambled off the table to escape those dozen mechanical arms before they could close around her. But even in her terror human modesty died hard and she managed to take the sheet with her, wrapping it around her body even as she scrambled away.

R’har rounded the exam table heading for her but she jumped back with a squeak of alarm that stopped him in his tracks.

“You are injured, little one,” he said, his growl gentle as a rumble of distant thunder across the sea. “You must lie down.” He indicated the exam table “The medcomp will treat you.”

“No—” Hope backpedaled. “—Fucking—” Her back hit the wall. “—
Way!
”

R’har held his palms out to her, his hands spread in what looked like g’hir body language for
I’m not going to hurt you
or maybe
Calm the fuck down.
Either way his soothing pose didn’t fool her into thinking he wouldn’t try making a grab at her. It was all right for R’har but she wasn’t about to let that thing
trap
her
with its spider arms, thank you very much.

“You are hurt.” He shook his head, bewildered. “You must allow your injuries to be tended.”

“No! I’m fine.
Really
.” She wasn’t sure how far that thing could reach; for all she knew those arms under the table could grab her from way over there. She sent a wary look its way.

R’har followed her glance. “You were afraid when you first came on board, when I first brought you here,” he murmured. His glowing eyes searched her face. “I believed it was I you feared so greatly.” His wave indicated the room at large. “It is this
place
that frightens you, little one? The medical bay?”

Hope swallowed hard, still braced for his rush or a mechanical arm’s grab. “Yeah, not such a big fan of this stuff. You know, now that you’re okay maybe we can get out of here? I mean, seriously, it’s a
bruise
, R’har.”

“I must—”

He stopped short at her frightened gasp and stared.

“
That
is why would you not sleep in here, although I told you the room would be heated to comfortable levels . . .” He tilted his head, his bright gaze searching hers. “Do you also fear the human medical treatment?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m pretty evolved that way,” she said with a nervous wave toward the exam table. “Human medicine, g’hir medicine—I don’t discriminate. The sight of anything medical leaves me an irrational whimpering mess.”

“You did not flee from me when I was hurt.” His brow creased. “You did not abandon me to my injuries. You brought me here. You remained by my side to see to my care.”

It was true. Usually she couldn’t even walk down the Band-Aid aisle at the drug store without having a panic attack. She could hardly believe a little while ago she’d been eagerly climbing onto the biobed with him. But that rumble-purring of his got her so hot she’d hardly noticed where she was.

Hope shifted her weight. “That was different. I couldn’t let myself fall apart then. You needed me.”

“Have you always had these fears?”

She gave a meaningful downward glance. “You know, I love that we’re having this talk while you’re bare-assed naked. I mean, I thought the whole kidnapped-by-an-alien-chip-in-my-head thing was going to make for some interesting talks with a therapist but now, exploring my medical phobia with the naked alien too? This takes crazy to a whole new level. I’m going to wind up putting her kid through
college
.”